


Oil and Lube

by incrediblethings (wildestdreams)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Louis, Car Sex, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Smut, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestdreams/pseuds/incrediblethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Harry's a car mechanic and Louis' engine can't seem to stop revving around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oil and Lube

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louistomlinsmile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louistomlinsmile/gifts).



> prompt: Harry fixes cars and motorcycles at Liam's shop, and Louis' car seems to have a new problem every other day, and comes in just to flirt with Harry. Eventually, his attempts at faking get so bad that Harry just pretends to fix the invisible problems. Car sex, oiled up Harry, and cocky Louis.  
> hope you like it! :)

Radley Avenue was like the heartbeat of Gratton. It was a narrow, single lane road lined with shops up and down the street. On weekends it was almost impossible to get through, on account of the dozens of people leisurely strolling through the streets.

 

Louis and his mates knew better than to bother with a car when they drove through the place, especially when it was so congested. But Liam was insistent on going to Fenmore, which was two towns over, to a restaurant opening one of his exes was having, and as a result, had bribed the other two with free grub and alcohol out of his own pocket. So out they were, sitting in at least ten minutes’ worth of traffic in order to get on the expressway.

 

At that moment, Liam was about ready to slam the horn in frustration. "Sodding pedestrians," he muttered under his breath.

 

Zayn, comfortably sprawled out in the back seat, didn't even look up from his phone. Louis barely registered his friend's comment either, fully absorbed in observing the sights surrounding their car from the comfort of the passenger seat.

 

Friday night was Family Night on Radley--he counted at least five different families, all with several children under the age of 10, making their way up and down the sidewalk. A group of tween girls dressed in all black and jabbering loudly passed their car. Louis almost chuckled when two in the back of the group paused to take a selfie, tongues stuck out and middle fingers flipped proudly in the air.

 

There were couples on the scene as well--high school sweethearts in addition to elderly husbands and wives, all with their fingers laced between each other's.

 

A blond head bobbing through the crowd suddenly caught Louis’s attention. The hair was as bright as a peeled banana, and when the person emerged from the crowd, he saw that he was arrayed in dark blue coveralls with the sleeves rolled up. It took him a minute, but Louis finally pieced together the boy’s identity.

 

“Hey, isn’t that Niall?”

 

“Who?” Liam asked, still glaring at the traffic in front of them.

 

“Niall Horan? That blond kid who was dating Samantha Berkley in high school? He was in my trigonometry class,” Louis explained.

 

“I remember him,” Zayn piped up from the back. “Class clown type, right? He was in the same English section as me in sophomore year. Drove our teacher insane. I think he transferred out by the time we got back from winter holiday.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Louis said, smiling a little.

 

“Call him over,” Liam suggested. “Maybe he’ll wanna hang a bit.”

 

Louis rolled down the window and called out the boy’s name. It took a few tries because he had his headphones in his ears. Eventually, Niall looked up from his phone and smiled as soon as he saw them.

 

“Louis? Louis Tomlinson?” the boy asked, approaching the car.

 

“Yeah. How’s it going, Niall?” Louis asked.

 

“‘S alright,” Niall replied with a huge grin. “How are you?”

 

“I’m good too. You remember Zayn, right?” Louis motioned to his friend in the back, who gave him a quick wave.

 

Niall nodded. “Yeah, you were in my physics class, right? 8 am with Rafferty?”

Zayn laughed. “Yes.”

 

“And this is Liam...I don’t think you guys have met,” Louis introduced his friend.

 

“Hey,” Liam greeted the boy from his seat, with a little “s’up” nod.

 

“So where are you headed?” Louis asked Niall conversationally, who peered down the street.

 

“I got work tonight,” he answered, pointing at the little “Mario’s” logo on his coveralls.

 

“Working on Friday night? That sucks,” Zayn remarks from the back seat.

 

Niall shrugged and smiled. “What can you do? You guys should stop by the garage some time though. I can introduce you to everyone.”

 

“We’re headed to Fenmore now,” Louis said. “But maybe we can stop by afterward? What time do you guys close?”

 

The boy grinned again. “Sure. We close up at 11, but I can get them to hang around a bit later. We'll probably get some pizza and beers.”

 

“Great,” Louis replied with a smile. “We’ll see you then.”

 

“I better get going...my boss is going to murder me if I’m late again. I’ll see you all later, yeah?” With a final wave, Niall bounded away from them, rounding the street corner and disappearing out of view.

 

\---

 

Louis let out a phenomenal burp as he opened the car door.

 

“Bloody hell, man. That Tara can fucking cook,” he commented, climbing into the vehicle. He had beaten Zayn to the car in order to claim the backseat for himself; Louis was ready for a nap.

 

Lying down on the leather seat, he heard Liam laugh as he entered the car.

 

“Why’d you dump her in the first place?” Zayn asked, shutting the passenger door.

 

“Tara was the one who left me. Said she wanted to ‘explore other options,’” Liam explained. He turned the key in its slot and the engine roared to life.

 

“It definitely worked out for her,” Louis said from the backseat with a grin.

 

Zayn and Liam pursued the conversation, but Louis found himself giving into the lull of sleep soon enough. His eyes fluttered and then closed. By the time he woke again, they had already returned to Gratton.

 

Louis was rubbing sleep out of his eyes as they drove through Haywood Street. It was a commercial street, but considering the size of their small town, most businesses had already closed up for the night, except one. Louis saw the blinking, blue neon lights on a sign at the end of the block. In scripted letters, the sign read: Mario’s.

 

“Hey, stop the car,” he told Liam.

 

“Why?” the other asked.

 

“That's the place Niall works at, right? We told him we’d come back at the end of the night, remember? Look, it’s not even 11 yet,” Louis said, pointing to the digital clock above the stereo displaying 10:49.

 

“Dude, I’m so stuffed right now. I don’t think I’ll make it out of the car,” Zayn complained.

 

“Come on, guys,” Louis pressed. “We told him we’d stop by. And he said he’d keep the place open for us. We’ll look like dicks if we don’t go in.”

 

With groans and heavy sighs, Liam’s Lexus was parked in the garage’s tiny lot within the next few minutes. They had barely stepped out of it when Niall came out of the little shop to greet them.

 

“Glad you could make it,” he said with his trademark wide grin. “Come inside, we’ve got pizza and beers.” He began to lead them through the doors.

 

“No thanks,” Louis responded. “After that meal, I don’t think we’ll be able to eat for a couple of weeks,” he said with a little laugh, glancing at his friends, who nodded in agreement.

 

“Suit yourselves,” Niall said, shrugging. The other three followed him inside, where two guys sat huddled around a pizza pie in deep discussion about wheels and torque.

 

“Shut up for a sec, would ya?” Niall told the two. “We’ve got company.”

 

The two of them looked up from their conversation at the three boys.

 

“Guys, meet my boss, Mario Cantiagno, and Harry Styles. There’s another mech around too--Miller--but he had to leave early, so it’s just us tonight. Mario, Harry, these are Louis, Liam and Zayn. We went to the same high school...at least until I dropped.”

 

Mario stood up from the bar stool he was sitting on and shook each of their hands. He was a warm, jolly kind of guy, most likely in his early to mid 50’s. Mario reminded Louis of his grandfather, except with curly black hair peppered with gray and twinkling brown eyes. He immediately engaged Liam and Zayn in conversation, while Niall went to the back to fetch more beers.

 

Styles, on the other hand, did not share the same charm as his boss. He had given the boys a quick “s’up” nod, but remained in his seat, typing away on his phone. Louis was almost determined to hate him, except for the fact that when Harry looked up from his phone once to catch something Mario said, Louis noticed that his eyes were the same shade of green as grass, and that his strong chin and jawline were undeniably a work of Greek gods. He had to sternly remind himself that staring with his mouth agape was not socially acceptable.

 

Too late. Styles, probably sensing it, looked up again and caught his gaze, and Louis’s cheeks instantly went aflame. He quickly averted his line of sight, chiming into the conversation the other guys were having without really being aware of what was coming out of his mouth.

 

Niall eventually returned with more beer for everyone, looking entirely disgruntled.

 

“What’s the matter, son?” Mario asked the boy.

 

"Another wrong number," Niall grunted, as he passed the bottles to his friends. Mario let out a booming laugh.

 

"What's so funny?" Liam asked with interest.

 

"You boys wouldn't believe how many phone calls we get here trying to put through pizza orders," Mario explained. The boys all joined in with the laughter.

 

"Fuckin' wankers," Niall said, once they had sobered up again. "It doesn't help that Cesario's is down the block and basically has the same number as ours."

 

As his friend bitched more about idiotic customers, Louis reached over the counter to get a beer, unwittingly brushing against Harry's arm, as the other boy tried to grab another slice of pizza. They made eye contact again, but Louis couldn't ignore it this time. So he focused on something else.

 

"That's a nice tat you've got," he commented to Styles, gesturing towards the inked numbers on the inside of his forearm, peeking out from the sleeve of his rolled-up coverall. 12/18.

 

Looking momentarily confused, Styles grunted a thanks in return.

 

"Yeah. I really like the font of the numbers. Not your usual Times New Roman there."

 

For the first time since Louis met him, Harry Styles smiled. It wasn't Niall's ear-to-ear grin, nor Mario's beaming countenance, but one that was entirely his own; a small but genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle up and showed off straight, even teeth.

 

It made a mortified Louis crack up as well.

 

\---

 

They were hanging out at Louis’s the next afternoon it seemed--Zayn and Liam showed up and woke him up around noon with a box of doughnuts from one of the bakeries in town.

 

“I take it you had an interesting evening yesterday,” Liam commented to Louis, as he sat at his friend’s kitchen table with a strawberry frosted doughnut. There was a gleam of wickedness in his brown eyes.

 

“No more than yours, I would say,” Louis replied, feigning nonchalance, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

 

“Quit screwing around, mate--everyone knows you were all over Styles last night,” Zayn said in his matter-of-fact manner. Louis felt his cheeks burn, but spoke quickly, hoping to cover it up. “I was about as into him as you guys were. He seemed like a proper arsehat,” he retaliated with a nervous scoff.

 

Zayn rolled his eyes and continued to speak. “Niall told me he was pretty taken with you. Even asked for your number after we left, apparently.” Liam arched his eyebrows in surprise at that revelation, but Louis brushed it off.

 

“That doesn’t mean anything. We spent like 2 hours in that garage last night; he could’ve just asked for it himself.” Louis hid his hands under the table as he talked, as they could not seem to stop fidgeting. He wasn’t sure what the hell was coming out of his mouth anymore.

 

Sensing Louis’s tone, Liam mercifully steered the conversation to a different topic. “What are we doing today?” he asked the other two.

 

The less-than-subtle segway allowed Louis to stew in his own thoughts for a while. He wasn’t sure why he had denied it to his friends, exactly. There wasn’t really any harm in letting them know about an innocent crush. Yet…

 

In retrospect, things had been weird between Louis and Harry last night--at least, in Louis’s opinion. Their conversation had been severely limited to Louis initiating every few minutes with a random topic and Harry replying with succinct answers. And then there were the handful of times when Louis said or did something completely moronic (i.e: spilling beer on himself...twice) that elicited the most adorable of brief smiles from the other boy.

 

And then there was the final situation. When they were leaving, Styles, taking Niall’s lead, had gotten up to give the boys all daps. Louis, of course, had been last, but there was the tiniest instance of hesitation when it was his turn. They had leaned in to touch shoulders, but had never actually made contact. Harry had quickly broken away for some reason, and Louis was unable to make eye contact with him for the rest of the forty-five seconds they had stood together before Louis and his friends left.

 

It was too hot or cold with this Styles bloke, Louis eventually decided, upon considering the fact that Harry had apparently indirectly asked for his number after the whole debacle. His brain was telling him to leave the whole thing alone, but his heart seemed to have a different plan of action.

 

\---

 

Louis’s stepdad’s vintage Mustang was his second son--er, daughter, to be more accurate. (He had named it Anabelle.)

 

He actually spent his weekends working on the thing, and no one in the house was allowed to drive it except him. It had taken much begging on Louis’s part for him to finally give up the keys.

 

“Why the sudden interest in Annabelle?” he had asked Louis as his stepson prepared to leave the house one afternoon.

 

“No reason...just wanted to make sure I didn’t die without driving her at least once,” Louis responded, keys in hand, as he practically bounced out of the house.

 

Was it a perfect plan? Probably not, Louis admitted to himself, as he impulsively jammed the keys into the ignition. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he at least didn’t try.

 

The garage wasn’t far from his house. He slowed down by the time he got to the edge of the block it was on, going over the plan in his head one last time. All he had to do was drive up to the place, park, get out, find Harry somehow, and explain how his gas pedal was mysteriously out of order. Easy peazy.

 

The first four steps of the plan worked out remarkably well--almost too well. Louis was taken aback to find Harry standing in the garage, inspecting what looked like the skeleton of a go-kart. It was the most unfortunate time for Louis to notice that one of the sleeves of Harry’s coveralls had been torn off, revealing a nicely toned arm. The other sleeve, he saw, had merely been rolled up to his forearm.

 

Before Louis had a chance to contemplate why he hadn’t just torn off the other sleeve as well, he nervously cleared his throat, and the other boy looked up.

 

“Hi, so...um...my car over there. The gas pedal. It doesn’t seem to be working,” Louis practically mumbled. Harry somehow got it all and nodded. “I’ll take a look.”

 

Louis followed him to where he had parked. He opened the driver’s side door, and carefully examined the pedal, crouched in such a way that Louis had an interesting view of a nicely shaped little butt. Aghast, he quickly averted his gaze, staring instead at the trunk of the car and pretending to text.

 

“All finished,” Harry announced, retreating out of the car.

 

“What was the problem?”

 

“Oh...I just realigned your defibrillator. You should be all set,” Harry told him as he shut the door.

 

Louis blinked at him several times in confusion, but then stammered out a thanks. Harry simply nodded and began to head back to his go-kart contraption, but Louis called him back.

 

“Is-is there any way I can get your card?”

 

Louis had barely finished his sentence before wishing the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him.

 

Harry arched an eyebrow. No turning back now. “You know, in case it starts acting up again?”

 

The boy looked at him in confusion for a moment before his countenance quickly turned into one of his rare smiles.

 

“Yeah, um, I don’t really have a card...but you can get my number down, if you like,” he offered. Louis, unable to speak any more, just nodded and pulled out his phone to add the number that Harry recited to his contacts.

 

“Great, thanks,” he said, as he pressed SAVE. “I’ll see you later, then. Or not. ‘Cause, you know, then my car would be broken again--”

 

Harry chuckled this time. “Goodbye, Louis,” he said, sending him off with a wave.

 

\---

 

"Hey, it's Louis. Car's been having problems again. Mind if I bring it over?"

 

"Sure, come after 7."

 

This time, Louis made sure it was a problem that wouldn't be fixed in 5 minutes.

 

"I think I'm gonna need a new brake installed," he announced as he swaggered into the mechanic shop, trying not to sound _too_ triumphant.

 

Harry looked up from the newspaper he was reading, which incidentally warmed Louis's heart. "What's the matter?" he asked.

 

"Brakes keep squeaking whenever I try to use them," Louis explained, leaning at the counter across from him. "Stepdad mentioned it might be due to water damage from that storm a few nights ago but I'm not sure."

 

"Let me take a look."

 

Once again, Louis found himself following Harry to his car. The sun was just beginning to sink in the horizon, emitting a faint glow around Harry that Louis noticed as he traipsed behind him. This time, the mechanic popped the hood of the car open instead.

 

He surveyed the workings in silence for a while. Louis wasn't sure whether he wanted to engage in conversation or be left alone while he worked, but before he had a chance to open his mouth, Harry had made his diagnosis.

 

"Just as I suspected," he announced, straightening up from his stooped position beneath the hood.

 

"What?" Louis asked.

 

"The mitral valve just needs a new Foley catheter," Harry answered gravely. "I've got one in the back but it takes a while to install."

 

"Oh." Louis held his breath. "How long?"

 

"Like thirty minutes maybe?"

 

So for half an hour, Louis hung around Harry while he worked to install something that looked like a large screw to some part under the hood. While he worked, Louis prayed that whatever he was doing wouldn't actually break the car. He wasn't in the mood to incur his stepfather's wrath.

 

He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, however, bringing up light conversation topics. After about half an hour of badgering, Louis learned that Harry lived with his mom and an older sister. He hated meat on his pizza, was afraid of flying, and been obsessed with comic books as a child.

 

"All done," Harry reported, shutting the hood of the car with satisfaction.

 

"Great," Louis said with a grimace, earnestly hoping that he'd at least be able to get the car home without causing a scene in front of him. "How much for the...catheter?"

 

Harry looked thoughtful. "Consider it on the house," he finally said.

 

Louis began to protest, but the mechanic simply shook his head. "It was nothing. The part's probably worth like 2 bucks, tops," he said.

 

"What about the labor?" Oh god, did that actually just come out of his mouth? Louis wanted to wash his mouth out with dish soap.

 

Harry simply stared at the boy for a moment, before drawing close to him. His eyes were just level with Louis's, their green irises intensely peering into the depths of his own.

 

When he spoke again, it was in a murmur that was barely audible. "We can discuss how you can pay that off at another time." He didn't break eye contact with him for a second as he said it.

 

Louis had to remind himself to exhale when he finally did.

 

\---

 

It was a full week before Louis saw Harry again, in the last week of August.

 

It had rained almost every day that week. Desperate rays of sun peeked through the clouds on Friday morning, but by the afternoon, they had disappeared from sight. By evening, the rain was pouring again.

 

Even with the help of Google, Louis was running out of vehicular problems for Harry to solve. They had taken up a texting relationship in the meantime, but it was uncharted territory for Louis, who was unused to having to wait for hours on end for a reply from Harry--and that was if he was lucky.

 

At first, he chalked it up to him just being busy at the garage, but then he decided he needed face-to-face contact with him to ascertain what was going on, exactly. But Louis couldn't just barge in whenever it pleased him. He needed another excuse...

 

"Hey, I think my windshield wiper is broken. Mind taking a look?"

 

Harry replied back twenty seven minutes later, a new record. Not that Louis was keeping count.

 

"Okay, yeah. Come by after closing. Heard the rain is supposed to let up by then."

 

Louis arrived at the shop at 10:36. Harry was with Niall this time. The two were drinking beers at the counter and talking.

 

"What's going on, Lou?" Niall asked genially, as their friend walked over to them, partially drenched in the rain that had decidedly not let up. "Three car issues in the past two weeks...I'd tell your stepdad to consider selling."

 

Louis laughed. "He'd probably sell me before anyone even laid a hand on Annabelle."

 

"I don't know, I think it's kind of dodgy all these problems--"

 

Harry interrupted his friend with a loud cough. "Niall, mind fetching some beer for Louis here?"

 

"Why do I always have to be..." the boy began, but faltered upon registering the pointed look in Harry's eyes. He meekly exited.

 

Louis sighed once Niall was out of earshot.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

He began to play with his fingers as he spoke. "I guess the secret's out. My car is in perfect health."

 

"It was never much of a secret to begin with," Harry replied with a chuckle. He stopped smiling upon noticing the look on Louis's face.

 

"Why do I have a hunch that that's not what's bothering you?"

 

"Because it's not."

 

As if on cue, a peal of thunder struck outside, and for a moment, Louis wondered when his life had turned into a soap opera.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Louis was quiet for a moment, deliberating his thoughts before speaking, a practice he had definitely picked up from Harry in the past couple of weeks. "I can't be here for this, Harry," he admitted. "The hot and cold. Just as soon as I start to believe you might want me as much as I want you, you go off and act like you want nothing to do with me. It's just really confusing to be around you." Louis knew he was rambling, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

 

His confession was met with silence. Harry was merely staring at him, his expression unreadable. Louis, unable to take it any longer, marched outside. He was halfway to the car before he heard a voice calling out for him, above the din of the storm.

 

He turned around and saw Harry standing there, ignoring the rain pounding away at him. Harry began to run to Louis as soon as he saw him turn around.

 

Louis was under the impression he was going to say something, but Harry seemed happier expressing his emotions through action. Before Louis even had time to register, he had swept him up close to him and, hands wrapped almost possessively around his waist, was kissing him. It was a kiss of a thousand words, mostly along the lines of "I'm sorry for being an idiot" and "please don't leave me." Louis thought he even detected a bit of "I've wanted to do this for the longest time," and happily succumbed to the desire.

 

It was a few blissful moments before they broke apart, and Louis remembered it was raining. All he was able to focus on were the way the droplets of rain that hung in Harry's loose curls looked like little jewels. He leaned his forehead gently against the mechanic's and smiled.

 

"I think you made some excellent points," he whispered, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

 

Harry grinned roguishly. "Would this be a discussion you'd care to continue in...closer quarters?" He motioned with his eyes over to Louis's stepfather's car, and Louis beamed.

 

Less than a minute later, their clothes lay in an abandoned pile on the car floor, and they were intertwined on the back seat. Harry was exploring Louis's body with his mouth, laying gentle kisses here and there that sent shivers up Louis's spine. He tried his best not to cry out in pleasure, but soft moans escaped his lips, anyway.

 

As Harry continued, Louis went on his own expedition with his hands, curiously feeling every inch of Harry's body he could reach with his fingers--the taut muscles on his back and the nape of his neck where his chestnut curls met skin. He took an extra moment to just run his fingers through Harry's hair, which actually made the other boy have to stifle a giggle that almost sounded like a constrained moan.

 

“Can’t tell if you’re turned on or ticklish,” Louis mumbled, a smile on his lips.

 

“A bit of both, really,” Harry responding, peering up at Louis through his lashes.

 

Louis smirked, dragging his finger through Harry’s hair again, before saying, “I’ll keep this in mind for the future.”

 

The implication behind his words of this happening more times didn’t go unnoticed, if Harry’s grin was anything to go by. Louis mirrored it, but shut his eyes, arching up into Harry as the other boy lapped his tongue over his navel, and pressed several more soft kisses down to his groin. When his hand fisted Louis’ half hard cock, it heightened the arousal in Louis’ lower belly, making him desperate for more. But Harry went slowly.

 

He slowly proceeded to pump Louis a few times in his hand before swiping his tongue out to taste the head. “Oh my God,” Louis groaned out as Harry dragged his tongue on the underside before enveloping Louis completely in his mouth.

 

“Fuck.”

 

It wasn’t like Louis never thought about how good Harry would be when doing this, but whatever Louis had in mind was an understatement, because Harry had exceeded his expectations spectacularly. He sucked, his saliva making the slide easy, and pumped his fist through whatever he couldn’t reach. It was enough to get Louis completely hard.

 

Harry lifted his head up, licking his pink lips obscenely, as he looked at Louis with darkened eyes. “Have you got lube and condoms by any chance?”

 

“Ye -- yeah,” Louis nodded shakily, reaching around the floor for his pants. He always had a packet in his wallet and Liam teased him a lot saying that it was pretentious, but according to Louis, you never know when you might need it. When Louis got the two packets out, he handed them to Harry, who grinned as he teared off the lube packet.

 

He took his time opening up Louis, long fingers sliding in one by one, and scissoring as he stretched him out. Louis was so turned on by that point, he didn’t know if he could hold off any longer till he came. It was really nice, though, because Harry kissed Louis the entire time. They weren’t making out, instead brushing their lips together, and smiling at each other giddily at random intervals. Harry only stopped when his finger prodded over a small spot that had Louis moaning into his mouth.

 

“Fuck -- I need you, like, right now otherwise I’m not going to make it,” he confessed.

 

Harry laughed against Louis’ lips, kissing him briefly one more time before leaning back and taking his fingers out. He unwrapped the condom packet with his teeth while maintaining intense eye contact with Louis and slid it on his own cock, which was visibly hard and fucking huge. Louis thanked fate for bringing Niall to him that Friday night so many weeks ago; without him, he would’ve never met Harry and he never would’ve been gotten so lucky.

 

Louis braced himself as Harry slid in, holding onto the other boy’s shoulders and taking deep breaths, while trying not to get too eager and push up into him. Despite the tight quarters, Harry was able to completely bottom out, biting his lip as he moved his hips slowly. Once Louis adjusted to Harry’s size, he gave him a nod, signaling for him to start moving. Harry rocked into Louis, his arms bracketing Louis’ head as he met his thrusts. The whole experience was ethereal; Harry was so gorgeous and Louis could barely believe it. His curls were damp, curling up and covering his face, his arms toned and a little slick from the oil.

 

After a few minutes of the two of them breathing and moaning against each other while Harry fucked into Louis, he looked into his blue eyes. “You close?” he asked.

 

“So close,” Louis muttered out, placing his hand on the back of Harry’s neck before pulling his head down for a sloppy kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and desperation, the thrusts quickening in pace. Louis was certain the car looked like it was being pushed around in time to their movements, making it obvious what was going on inside, but he didn’t seem to care. He was flushed from head to toe and so turned on, he could cry. Harry didn’t seem to mind either, kissing Louis back with every ounce of pent-up energy and desire in his bones, and giving it to him harder than he had before.

 

When Louis peered over Harry’s shoulder, he noticed that the windows had steamed up around them--whether it was from their heavy breathing or the storm that was raging outside, he couldn’t tell. Either way, Louis was thankful for it, imagining poor Niall wandering to the car, trying to find his friends. He would be scarred for life.

 

Once Louis came, his moan muffled by him biting down on Harry’s shoulder, Harry followed suit a few moments later, kissing Louis through it. “Shit,” Louis mumbled, laughing.

 

Harry giggled, pressing a kiss on his cheek before sliding out. Louis maneuvered himself to grab some napkins from the Kleenex box in the back and handed a few to Harry before cleaning himself up.

 

“C’mere,” Harry said, leaning back against the door and extending his hand out to Louis. Louis took it with a smile, letting himself get dragged to the other side, as Harry kissed him on the lips and let him snuggle up.

 

"Can I ask you something?" Louis asked, as he began to trace delicate circles on Harry's chest with his middle finger.

 

"Sure."

 

"When did you know I was faking about all the car problems?"

 

Louis felt Harry reposition himself beneath him before speaking again. "Honestly," he said. "I knew when you walked in with that bullshit gas pedal story."

 

Louis let out a large guffaw. "If you knew I was faking, how come you still fixed my car all those times?"

 

"Well, there's one obvious reason," Harry stated, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "But also, I never actually fixed your car...I just made you think I did."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"With the gas pedal issue, I just pretended to poke around. With the brake, I just popped the hood open and gave your car an oil change. I never actually put that thing in."

 

Louis gaped at Harry in shock.

 

"Also, if I'm totally coming clean...all of the parts I mentioned to you were fake. Every term was just a medical one." He laughed after admitting it.

 

"Wait, so the defibrillator, mitral valve, Foley catheter..."

 

"A defibrillator is that machine that pumps electricity to your heart to restart it. The mitral valve is a valve in the heart between the atria and the ventricles that regulates blood flow. And a Foley catheter is another word for a urinary catheter...it's like a tube that connects through the urethra to the bladder to drain urine." Harry chuckled again. "I suppose now is as good a time as any to mention that I was premed in college. I'm taking a gap year to work here and save up for med school."

 

With a laugh of his own, Louis punched Harry's arm in affection before laying against his chest again. Harry's arms were wrapped around him as Louis felt the steady up-and-down rhythm of the boy's breathing beneath him, Harry’s heartbeat mirroring Louis’s own.


End file.
